


Believe Just a Little

by Crossover_Critter



Series: In A Place Where We're Happy [3]
Category: Constantine (Comic), Constantine (TV), Injustice: Gods Among Us, The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Frustrated John Constantine, Humor, M/M, Magic vs Science, Mention of character death (Constantine TV series), Mill House, Minor spoilers for Constantine TV series, Panicked Barry Allen, Tarot Cards, magic and mysticism, mystical elements, tarot reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27328141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crossover_Critter/pseuds/Crossover_Critter
Summary: John decides to take Barry to the Mill House for a few days away from it all.  He might, however, have neglected to explain exactly what the Mill House is and how it works.  And yeah, Barry is totally out of his element.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Bruce Wayne (past), Barry Allen/Dean Winchester (past), Barry Allen/John Constantine
Series: In A Place Where We're Happy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915555
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Believe Just a Little

John was spread out on the worn sofa, his legs taking up most of the space as his body sunk comfortably into the well-used, leather cushions. The antique, intricately-engraved coffee table next to him was piled high with old books, most of them forgotten about and untouched for years. He held another volume in his hands while a centuries-old manuscript of spells sat open on his lap.

In the year or so that he and Barry had been together, John had only made it to the Mill House a handful of times, and then only for short jaunts to gather totems and charms or consult the wealth of reference materials Jasper had collected. If he was honest with himself, the place had felt empty and oppressive without Chas's silent yet solid presence to keep the darker memories at bay. As it was, he swore that Gaz's muffled, agonized cries of pain still reverberated throughout the tiny bedroom where he'd shuffled off his mortal coil, last supper for a Mnemoth that had devoured him from the inside out.

The fact that he and Chas -- his one-time best mate -- had parted on such a sour note had only made the atmosphere in the house that much more dispiriting, especially at times when happy memories would rise, unbidden, to John's mind and meld into painful flashes of their bitter falling out.

But the enthusiasm and pervasive happiness that Barry radiated held the shadows – both in John's head and in the house -- at a comfortable distance; not gone, but not clawing at the edge of his consciousness either. And in that space, he realized he'd forgotten just how much he enjoyed the comfort and solitude of the Mill House. Central City was modern and certainly not lacking in energy, but it was the bookcases crammed with mystical objects, musty tomes, knickknacks, and the occasional photograph of Jasper's friends and family that made John feel both at peace and rejuvenated.

John smiled fondly as his partner padded into the room right on cue. Barry had heeded his warning about exploring too deeply into the house's many nooks and crannies ( _"Wouldn't want you to fall into an abyss or suddenly end up in a different dimension, luv,"_ John had cautioned, stifling a laugh at how huge Barry's eyes had grown in panic), and had spent most of the trip thus far either enjoying the woods surrounding the house or curled up with one of the less "magicky" (Barry's word) books in Jasper's library. Science truly was the man's religion.

He watched quietly as Barry picked up one of the leather-bound works off the coffee table, regarding it with blatant skepticism before opening it to the first page. As the cover lifted, John saw the title, "Seeking the Future Through Tarot," embossed in gold letters. John's eyes flicked down to his own thick, dog-eared volume on wards and sigils, reading a couple of sentences before raising his gaze back to his partner. Eyes still glued to the pages, Barry gently lifted John's legs off the cushions and slid underneath, claiming a spot on the sofa as he continued to read.

John was not-so-secretly glad that his partner hadn't shown much interest in the dark and mystical arts. In his eyes, Barry had one of the purest souls he'd ever encountered, and yet the lure of magic could taint even the best of men with ephemeral promises of fame and fortune. He had no desire to see Barry travel the path of selfish, narcissistic, materialism that had marred his own past. But the trip to the Mill House had raised some interesting discussions and debates as Barry had found himself surrounded by the nuts and bolts of John's "world of wizardry and witchcraft" (again, Barry's words, but endearingly spoken, so no offense taken).

He looked on as Barry slowly flipped through a couple of pages, focusing for several minutes on a particular description that John couldn't see from his vantage point at the end of the sofa. The rest of the book passed suddenly in a blur as his partner employed his own special brand of speed reading. Reaching the end, Barry closed the cover gently, his gaze turning contemplative as his finger absently traced the golden letters.

There was a question coming, but John forced himself to focus on his own research while he waited for Barry to sort through his thoughts. A smile tugged at his lips as he pondered how a debate over the use of tarot cards in informing criminal investigations would play out. It was notoriously hard in certain cases to get a yes/no answer from the cards, but with the right question and a good amount of skill, it could be done. He was building his argument in his head when the other man finally spoke.

"Have you ever used magic on our relationship?" Barry kept his eyes on the book as he nibbled on his lower lip, expression thoughtful.

There wasn't an accusation explicit in the question, but the implication was enough that John felt a slight chill settle over him. Placing the book in his hands carefully within the one open on his lap and laying them both atop the stack on the coffee table, he slowly drew his legs back and shifted so he was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, his undivided attention on his partner. Cautiously he asked, "What do you mean, luv?"

Blinking in confusion at John's seriousness, Barry's mouth opened in a silent "O" as he realized what the other man was thinking. "SorryIdon'tmean...ImeanIjustwanttoknow...." Pursing his lips in frustration, he paused, drawing a breath and letting it out slowly. Carding a hand through his straw-blonde hair, he said with exaggerated articulation, "I don't mean, did you do something _to_ me. I mean, have you ever used magic to find out _about_ me or _about_ us?"

"Ah," John said, feeling his heart rate return to something a little more steady. "You're asking if I've ever used magic to answer a question about us?"

"Yeah, like something you didn't know or didn't understand." Barry thought for a moment. "Like, did you ever ask if we'd be together?"

The magician gave a minute shake of his head. "No, luv, I didn't."

Giving his partner the side-eye, Barry replied, "Seriously? Why not? I mean, if you had the ability to know, why wouldn't you ask?" He tapped the cover of the tarot book. "According to this, there are...spreads?...for everything."

John pursed his lips as he tried to figure out how to explain what was, in fact, a very complicated decision – provided you knew anything about the art of divination. Finally, with a click of his tongue, he said,"Okay, when we first met, you were in a relationship, right?" Barry nodded. "Back then, if I had asked the cards if we'd be together and they'd said 'yes,' what could I have done?"

The speedster regarded John curiously, but after several moments, he simply shook his head and shrugged. "I mean, we were really good friends; I guess you could have said something."

The answering belly laugh echoed throughout the room. "Riiiiight. I go up to man of science – a bloody scien _tist_ no less -- who happens to be in a perfectly happy relationship, and I tell him that we're destined to be together because I've literally read it in the cards." John snorted, the idea sounding even more ludicrous now that he'd voiced it. "How does that go for me?"

"I'd probably laugh at you, like you just laughed at me," Barry said, looking a little abashed.

"Exactly. But we're 'destined' to be together, yeah?" John countered, warming to the conversation. "So what if I tried to pull you away from Dean? What if I nattered on and on about how awful he was or how you could do better? Tried to get in his way, like. What if I every time I saw the two of you together on the Watchtower, I sat down with you and started talking about our destiny together? What would you have done?"

"I probably would have told you you're an ass, and if you didn't stop, I couldn't be your friend anymore." Tilting his head quizzically, Barry's eyes narrowed in concentration. "But even if I'd told you to go to Hell back then, it'd still be destiny right?" he challenged.

"That's not the way it works, luv," John said, inching closer and taking Barry's hand between his. "Yes/no readings are tricky in tarot. All a spread does is give you the likely outcome based upon the path you're currently on. You still have the power to deviate from that path if you don't like the predicted outcome. And you  _definitely_ have the power to screw up a good outcome if you act like a complete and utter arse."

Barry blinked slowly as he processed what John was saying. Placing a kiss on his partner's knuckles, John clarified, "We were destined to be together so long as I continued on the path as your friend. As long as I was your friend, I could be there for you when Bats buggered off. But the minute I changed my behavior and pressed the issue – wanted the result now instead of waiting for it to happen naturally – I changed everything. I ruined our friendship, and when that moment came when I should have been there...." John paused and shrugged, missing nonchalant by a mile. "I wasn't. It could have been someone else who helped you or there might not have been anyone. Either way, 'we' never happened."

Both men were silent for several minutes as the weight of John's words sunk in. Staring at their clasped hands, Barry finally asked, "So you never asked about us because you were afraid you'd change the future for the worse?" Barry's eyes flicked up to catch his partner's, but John looked away, his expression uncertain.

Weighing his next words carefully, John -- for not the first time since he and Barry had started dating -- found himself unwilling to lie. "No, luv, I didn't ask because I was afraid the answer would be 'no.'" Feeling his partner's gaze boring a hole in the side of his head, he reluctantly turned back, his features flitting between a dozen warring emotions. He was suddenly desperate for a cigarette.  _The things you do for love,_ he moaned to himself, still unable to believe he'd quit. Squelching the urge to pat down his pockets for that one last hidden fag, he settled for grabbing and fidgeting with the monk's dagger, carved of stone and engraved with symbols of enlightenment, that had fallen between the stacks of books. He ignored Barry's sharp intake of breath as he pressed his index finger against the point, focusing on the pain to help center himself. Mind marginally clearer, he spoke again.

"When I was with you, as your friend, I was trying my best to be a better man. I was trying to change – to be the person I knew you thought I could be. I thought if I did that, then I would have a chance with you. If I asked the cards about us being together and they had said 'no,' it wouldn't have mattered that the future was fluid. I was trying as hard as I could, but according to the cards, it would never be enough. So there was no reason to keep trying. That hope would have been gone, and I would have walked away." John swallowed audibly. "And what I really needed back then was that hope, or I would have ended up back in that same gutter I always managed to crawl into."

His eyes slipped away again as he fingered the tip of the blade. Finally, acknowledging Barry's look of concern, he placed the dagger on the sofa and once again took the other man's hand in his and interlaced their fingers. "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, but I told you once how important it was that you believed in me. In my mind, as long as that was the case, we had a chance."

They passed a moment in heavy silence before Barry slid forward on the couch and wrapped John in a hug. Turning to kiss his neck, Barry whispered, "I get it. I love you." He felt John nod against his shoulder as his partner's arms slowly encircled him.

They stayed that way until the position turned awkward and Barry reluctantly pulled back. Cupping John's chin in his hand, he lifted his partner's head until their eyes met. "So what can we ask the cards that won't screw up our future?"

John's eyes widened in surprise. "Let me get this right, the science nerd wants a tarot reading?" Barry's eyebrows shrugged, and John gave the other man a minute to change his mind before he pushed himself off the couch and shuffled over to one of the bookcases in the corner of the room. Gently lifting a small wooden box off a shelf, he made his way back over to the coffee table, moving books to the floor before he placed the box down on the polished, carved surface. "Think of a question," he said as he opened the box and lifted out a deck of cards. He placed them in the middle of the table and regarded Barry steadily.

Bemused, Barry stared at the cards. "What kind of question? I don't want to break the universe here."

John made a noise in the back of his throat like an aborted laugh and scrubbed a hand over his face in a poor attempt to hide his amusement. "What's something you've wanted to know? Or a piece of advice you want to receive? Like, why did something happen or what should you do about a certain situation?" John shuffled the cards a couple of times as he spoke before returning the deck to the center of the table. He watched as the wheels turned in Barry's mind before the other man gave a small nod. "You got it?"

"Yeah. What do I do?"

John slid the cards towards his partner and motioned for Barry to pick them up. "As you concentrate on your question, I want you to shuffle the cards four times, then cut the deck into three parts and stack the cards back together in reverse order. After that, shuffle five more times."

Barry's expression suggested John had just told him the answer to life, the universe, and everything was, in fact, simply forty-two. "That's it? There's no spell or ritual or even fire? You don't have to summon some Aztec god, do you?"

Rolling his eyes, John let out an exasperated _sigh._ "If it makes you feel better, luv, I'm sure I can find a gypsy with a Magic Eight Ball to tell your fortune." He glared at Barry's smirk, motioning to the cards with an impatient wave of his hand. "Come on, come on, can't keep Fate waiting." Under his breath, he added, "Man's a right bastard if you're tardy." 

Barry snorted, his eyes twinkling with mirth. Picking up the cards without further argument, he deftly did as John asked, placing them back down after the final shuffle. "Now what?"

John's gaze went unfocused, as if he were listening to a voice only he could hear. "Turn over three cards and place them left to right," he replied, coming back to himself.

"Uhh, what was that?" Barry gestured vaguely at John's face with one hand while he flipped the first three cards with the other and lined them up in front of himself.

"Intuition." John's eyes were on the cards he spoke, regarding each deliberately. "Tarot is all about listening to your gut. With practice, the cards speak to you with their pictures. Each card has its own set of meanings, but what you actually see is just as important – if not more so – than what the books will tell you."

Dubiously, Barry studied the cards, trying to decode their meanings. After a minute he gave up, shaking his head. "Okay, so what do the Seven of Cups, the Two of Cups, and the Star have to tell me?" John pursed his lips and looked pointedly between Barry and the cards. Incredulously, Barry asked, "You're seriously just going to let me fumble my way through this? I mean, what if I asked about the Apocalypse or something and the world is about to end?"

John just stared at his partner, blank-faced. "I guess we'll just be surprised then. Now hurry up or we'll die before we know it's coming, and I, for one, intend to be a lot less sober before I kick off at the end of times."

"Ass," Barry muttered, glaring at the other man.

"Yes. It's my best feature, as well you know." Barry's face went beet red and John smiled in smug triumph. "Now, recalling you asked for this particular reading, luv, why don't you go ahead and tell us what you see?"

With a  _huff_ , Barry turned his attention back to the cards, zeroing in on the Seven of Cups. "Alright, there's this shadowy guy, and he's staring at all these cups with stuff in them – a sleeping head, a radioactive glowing Jesus playing the role of the Holy Ghost, a snake that's about to bite radioactive Jesus, a castle, jewels, a laurel, and a dragon that looks like it really wants to eat the guy for lunch." Barry glanced up at John for confirmation and found his partner wearing a pained expression. "What? You told me to tell you what I saw. I told you," he said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like an idiot."

John opened his mouth to retort and then immediately closed it. Instead, he drew in a deep breath through his nose and released it slowly. Hands raised placatingly, he replied, "You're right, I'm sorry, I'm not judging. Just, try to be less...rigid when you read the cards, yeah?" He tapped the first card with his index finger. "What's the first thing that comes to your mind when you look at the Seven of Cups?" When Barry pursed his lips in frustration and looked away, John entreated, "Please, trust me. I realize this isn't your cuppa, but...." He trailed off, looking both uncertain and disappointed.

As ridiculous as he felt, Barry realized how much the little exercise suddenly seemed to mean to his partner. So even as a part of his brain chided him for being silly, he quietly said, "Choices. The guy in the card looks like someone who's got a lot of options. Some of them really,  _really_ bizarre." After a beat he added, "Although I guess it would be cool to have a pet dragon." He smirked, feeling it widen into a genuine smile when John's lips twisted begrudgingly upwards.

"Okay, nerd boy, next card. What you see?"

Feeling a little less awkward, Barry easily replied, "A man and a women, both holding the same kind of cups." Running a hand through his hair, he considered the image. "The guy's reaching for her, like he cares for her. I think they're in a relationship...at least he wants to be."

"Good. Next?" John asked, scratching at his cheek while his eyes traced the story across the cards.

"There's a naked lady with two pots and she's pouring water on the ground and into lake. There are stars above her." Barry waited several seconds for inspiration to hit him, but got nothing. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

Striking a pose, the back of one hand to his forehead, eyes turned skyward, John dramatically recited, "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight...."

"Wishes?" Barry canted his head, studying the card. "I don't get it."

"In a sense. This one's a little harder." One hand sketching a loose circle in the air, John said, "When everything around us is dark, we gaze up at the stars, we make a wish, and we have...?"

"Hope," Barry supplied without hesitation.

"Exactly." Giving the cards another once over, John suddenly felt self-conscious. Drawing into himself, he was sure the tips of ears were crimson, if not his entire face.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Barry asked, confused by his partner's abrupt change in demeanor. Eyebrows shooting comically high, he added, "Don't tell me I actually broke the universe!"

John's head jerked up in surprise. He couldn't tell if the other man was faking alarm or if he truly thought he'd tarot-ed about the end of days. Part of him felt vindicated for keeping the scientist far far away from magic, while the other part recognized that that was probably the reason why an otherwise rational man appeared to be on the verge of a meltdown. _Aliens and meta-humans he's okay with, but give him playing cards... Christ, good thing Zatanna and the rest of the those wankers aren't here. I'd never live it down._

"No, you prat," John replied, trying to keep his tone affectionate, but unable to totally mask his distress. "Your question, I know what it was." He tapped the Seven of Cups. "With all the possible reasons I could've fallen in love with you...," he said, his finger moving to the next card, "...the most important one...," he continued, jumping to The Star, "...was that you gave me hope."

A hush came over the room and John felt his unease return as Barry's gaze traveled back and forth between him and the cards, mouth hanging open in wonder. "How did you know? That's just...wow. I can't believe.... Seriously. Just. Wow."

The abrupt shift from total fear to child-like wonder made John's head spin. Still, somewhere deep down, a part of him preened at his partner's praise. "A little like magic, yeah?"

"Yeah, I guess. Except without the fire."

John chuckled as he gathered the cards, giving them a quick shuffle before opening the box to place them back inside.

Reaching out, Barry stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Wait, what about you?"

"What about me, luv?" John's tone was wary.

Turning both palms upwards, Barry said, "I don't know. Don't you want to know anything? I mean, if I asked about you, you can ask about me."

Letting the seconds tick by as he stared at the other man through slitted eyes, John retorted, "You just want to test the cards. _Again_." Indecision flashed across Barry's face before he had the decency to admit his guilt with a small nod.

"Fine," John grumbled, placing the cards back on the table and splitting the stack in two. "But I'm telling everyone in the crime lab that you're throwing cards now," he said as he shuffled, cut the deck, and shuffled again. Once more, he paused to consider the cards before quickly drawing four and placing them left to right on the table in front of him. After drawing the fourth card, his hand hovered over the deck uncertainly.

Brow furrowing, Barry asked, "What's wrong?"

"Just trying to decide whether I need another card." Finally John pulled a fifth card off the stack, placing it face down a few inches away from the others. "Intuition," he reminded the other man gently as he studied the spread. "So to the question of why you chose me, we have The Tower, The Hermit, The Magician, and the Nine of Swords reversed. Those are some pretty heavy cards, luv."

Leaning forward, Barry gestured to the third card. "Why is there one called 'The Magician?' Isn't this already magic?"

"You read the book, squire, why don't you tell us what you remember?" John asked expectantly. As a flash of annoyance crossed the other man's face, he chided, "Ah ah ah! Come on, luv, take off that lab coat for one minute and pretend that we're in the land of hobbits and dwarves, and that there's a troll living under the bridge out back that'll knock you for a loop if you don't pay the toll. I know you can do it."

"You want me to think of all of this as fantasy? How is that supposed to make me 'believe?'" Barry questioned, drawing out the "e" and adding air quotes, his eyes widening owlishly.

John slowly counted to ten and took a steadying breath. Still, he knew the hurt he was feeling was clear. Tersely he said, "In the midst of a great crisis that rocked your foundations and brought down your world, you looked for a way out -- a light in all the darkness that would help you find a new path -- and I, The Magician, was there for you. I helped take away the fears that tore at your mind and kept you up at night, I showed you that you had the power to create something new for yourself, and together we both found our ways back to happier times and better memories." His voice was quivering as he turned over the last card to reveal the Six of Cups.

Without waiting for a response, he swept the cards off the table, shuffled them back into the deck, and placed them in the wooden box, closing the lid with a gentleness that masked his inner turmoil. Rising, he took three long strides to the bookcase and settled the box on the highest shelf.

"John...?"

"This is my life." Back to Barry, John spoke with steel in his voice, overriding the other man's words. "This is me." Turning, he held his arms out at his sides, taking in the entire room. "All of this, in one way or another, is me. And I'm not asking you to become Harry bloody Potter or open a New Age shop and sell crystals, but a bit of an open mind would bloody well be appreciated."

The room went still as Barry gaped, slack-jawed, at his partner. "What just happened?" Pushing off the sofa, he walked slowly across the creaking wooden floor to stand in front of John. The other man sucked in his lips and regarded Barry steadily, arms crossed over his chest. "Seriously, love, what did I do?"

"Like I said, I get that this is all hoodoo and gobbledygook to you, and you can't put it under a microscope or tack a nice label on it, but magic – like science – is real whether you like it or not. And if you can't allow yourself to accept that, then I don't see how you can bloody well accept me."

The finality of the statement hit Barry like a ton of bricks, and for a handful of seconds he couldn't breathe. _Nononononono!_ the voice in his head shouted in a super-speed litany, _It'shappeningagain!_ He grasped at John's arms, and in a small voice replied, "John, love, I do accept you. And I know magic means a lot to you. I was just joking."

Desperately wishing for a cigarette, John shoved a hand through his hair, mussing the dirty blond strands in agitation. "Really? Then why can't you sit through a simple tarot reading and describe the bloody pictures on a bunch of cards?" Holding out his hand, he muttered a few words under his breath. The air cackled with heat and energy as a small fireball coalesced in his palm. "Why is it, despite all the evidence to the contrary, it's always so hard for you to 'belieeeeeve?'" he said mockingly. "All I'm asking is for you to _try_ and understand."

"I do understand!" As the fire flickering in John's hand dissipated, Barry stepped in closer to his partner. "I understand that all of this scares the shit out of me."

A rough laugh escaped John's lips. "Right, a deck of cards frightens you that much. Do you really think I'd put you in a position to start the damn Apocalypse?" He searched the other man's eyes angrily, and Barry held his gaze.

"It's not about the cards. You think I've never seen tarot cards before? You don't think I have a general idea of how they work?" Barry gestured to the shelf above his head. "But what about those cards? This question? Hell, this _place_?"

John started to speak but stopped, his face scrunched in confusion. "I'm sorry, luv, but you've lost me."

Barry rested his hands on the other man's hips and leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips. "John, you have gone out of your way to keep me away from magic, and that's fine – I get it, and I'm okay with it. You're right, this isn't my 'cuppa.' But then a few days ago, with nothing more than, 'Come on, luv, there's a place I want show you,' you bring me here. And we're not two steps in the doorway when you tell me we're in a magic house and to be careful 'because somewhere around here is a portal to eternal nothingness.' And then it's, 'Don't touch that because it summons a Mayan god,' and 'Ooooh, be careful with that because it will compel people to tell the truth,' and that...well that apparently traps someone's soul in limbo." He glanced nervously at an ornate ceramic jar covered in luminous green runes that seemed to pulse gently in the room's dim light, a low, thrumming energy that set his teeth on edge and raised goose-bumps along his arms.

"So yes, maybe a deck of tarot cards is really just a deck of tarot cards, but when you're telling me that we might honestly and truly not be together today if you'd decided to do a simple tarot reading over _five years ago...._ " Barry swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry, John, but that's not something _little_ for me. So yes, I'm telling stupid jokes because I'm nervous, and I'm doing a horrible job of telling you that I need your help -- even though I can clearly see what's on the cards -- because I'm afraid to get this wrong precisely _because_ I accept that all this is very very real." Breathing hard, he just managed to hold back the super-speed train wreck of words that threatened to spill out. "I don't honestly believe I'm going to cause the Apocalypse, love, but somewhere in that whole massive run-on sentence of thoughts, I think realized that maybe I'm not as okay with all this as I thought I was."

Feeling that familiar chill glide up his spine, John tentatively wrapped one arm around Barry's lower back while his other hand rested on the nape of his partner's neck, lightly brushing the short hairs on the sensitive patch of skin. Bringing their foreheads together and closing his eyes, he spent a moment just breathing in the other man's scent and letting it calm him. "This is what it's like being in a relationship with your friend, eh?" John murmured.

Lost in the moment, Barry  _hmmmed_ softly in question.

"So many things are different now. Everything that was important is.... It's still important, but it's, like, differently important." When Barry  _huffed_ laugh, John opened his mouth to try and explain. Barry, however, pressed a finger to his partner's lips.

"I know what you mean. We thought we knew each other, were comfortable with each other, but there was a distance between us as friends that isn't there now, and suddenly things that were okay...they're different." Barry's gaze wandered to the box of tarot cards and then around the room. "I wasn't as close to this part of you as I am now, and all of this...it's just a lot more real, a lot more...serious."

"I thought you were doing alright," John said softly, brushing his hand across his partner's cheek.

Amusement playing at his features, Barry replied, "I haven't left that chair since we got here except to eat, sleep, pee, or go walking in the woods."

"I thought you just really liked that book."

"Right," Barry said, chuckling. "'Practical Applications of Alchemy.' Definitely my new go-to thriller." John's expression turned sheepish, but Barry wiped away the look by bringing their lips together. "Maybe you can teach me a little?"

"Alchemy?"

Barry shook his head. "Magic."

Astra's face suddenly swam in front of John's eyes as memories of Newcastle shoved to the forefront of his mind. His ears rang with screams and the sounds of chaos, while sulfur and brimstone flooded his nostrils. He swore he saw flames licking at the corner of his vision as the young girl's face suddenly morphed into Barry's, his partner's features contorted in agony. It was all John could do not to pull away and run for the nearest bottle. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, luv," he said through gritted teeth. "Never been a good teacher, me."

Recognizing the ghosts of the past swimming in John's gaze, Barry pulled the other man close and wrapped his arms around him tightly. "Shhhh, I've got you. I'm right here. You're safe."

"Yeah, but you...." John's voice broke. "It's not me I'm worried about, innit?"

"I'm not Astra, John." Barry spoke soothingly against his partner's skin. "And I promise you, I don't want to run off and join a coven. But there's a difference between respecting magic and fearing it, and I think we can both agree that being afraid is not helping us. So help me to understand."

"I just tried." Even to his own ears, John sounded petulant, but he was torn.

Sighing, Barry pulled away and stepped past him to the bookcase. Reaching up, he took the box of tarot cards back down. "Explain it to me. Show me how it works."

'Strewth, but you science types are all the same." John pinched the bridge of his nose, only some of his annoyance exaggerated.

"Yeah, not helpful," Barry chided.

"Guess not. But, luv, you  _really_ do have to accept that there isn't a neat explanation for everything. Sometimes it's just the power of your conviction that makes it all work." John grasped Barry's shoulders as he spoke, as if he thought a good shake would help the other man understand. 

"Then explain to me what you can, and I'll ask the troll under the bridge for help with the rest." Barry managed to keep his face neutral as he spoke.

Expression equally blank, John replied, "Not sure that's the best of ideas, luv. Trolls can be ornery buggers at the best of times, and they're not exactly known for their intelligence and eloquence. If he doesn't steal your lunch money and send you packing, he'll likely bend your ear for hours about the hardship of living under a bridge and shaking down unassuming passersby for change. And then it's a gamble as to whether or not he'll eat you."

There was a moment where John honestly thought the other man would run in fright, but the wide grin that slowly broke across Barry's face told him he'd been played. "Then I guess it's good I have you to save me."

With a roll of his eyes, John made a gagging noise as he took the box from Barry's hands. "Alright, enough with the sappiness. Let's do this before my common sense returns and I change me mind."

"Good. And then after lunch you can give me a proper tour of this place and explain why it is there's a unicorn with a bad nicotine habit hiding out in the bathroom.

John's laughter accompanied them both back to the table.


End file.
